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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 1. I thought once how Theocritus had sung


I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair:
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,Ч
'Guess now who holds thee? 'Ч' Death,' I said. But, there,
The silver answer rang,Ч' Not Death, but Love.' 



Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Elizabeth Barrett-Browning's other poems:
  1. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 20. Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think
  2. Sonnets from the portuguese. 31. Thou comest! all is said without a word
  3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 12. Indeed this very love which is my boast
  4. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 18. I never gave a lock of hair away
  5. A Year's Spinning


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